


the other side of me

by sinisterkids (400lux)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/400lux/pseuds/sinisterkids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the best of both worlds for Kim Jongdae, or as the world knows him, Chen, teen popstar and part-time heartbreaker. Jongdae has just one tiny problem though: his best friend, Byun Baekhyun, high schooler and full-time #1 fan of Chen. </p><p>hannah montana!au. (<a href="http://sinisterkids.livejournal.com/13819.html">lj mirror</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the other side of me

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i used a shitload of quotes and song lyrics from the show like... jesus christ does originality exist anymore.

“JONGDAE!” Baekhyun yells into the phone. “Watch the link I just sent you. The interviewer asked Chen about his ideal type and he was _totally_ ambiguous.” The last part is said in a conspiratorial whisper and Jongdae can practically hear Baekhyun’s heart beating a million miles an hour through the shitty cell reception. He knows his best friend like the back of his palm. “Do you understand how important this is to me?! I ACTUALLY HAVE A CHANCE!”

 _You have more of a chance than you think_ , Jongdae wants to reply, but instead he gives a more supportive and practiced, “That’s amazing Baekhyun.”

“Yeah, you have a chance after you actually meet the guy,” Chanyeol counteracts sarcastically, deep voice coming out of nowhere in the three-way call. “And besides, he probably doesn't even know you're alive. You're like some dried up insect on the windshield of his life. Not even in the centre. You're way off to the side where the wipers don't reach.” He then proceeds to do a shitty impression of a windscreen wiper.

Baekhyun gasps, tragically falling back against his bed with a hand on his forehead. “Don’t crush my hopes and dreams, you soul-sucker.” He sighs. “This is as monumental as the time Chen covered _Ain’t No Other Man_ and didn’t change the pronouns. It’s the 21st century! There’s absolutely no point to musical no homos! Ugh, he is the perfect guy.”

The funny thing about that performance was the meeting Jongdae held beforehand with the higher-ups which had ended in marathoning _RuPaul’s Drag Race_ on the projector and getting tipsy off convenience store wine. Needless to say, Jongdae’s devious plan had worked and he was given the green light to perform one of Christina Aguilera’s greatest hits on national television Originally, he’d been angling for _Candyman_ , with the whole pin-up girl get-up and everything, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Hey, Jongdae?” Baekhyun asks after Chanyeol rambles on about cheese jerky. “Wanna come over mine this Saturday? Mum bought me the _Chen: Best of Both Worlds Concert DVD_ on sale and I need someone to watch it with me.”

“Rude,” Chanyeol grumbles. “It’s like I’m not even here.”

“You always laugh at me!” Baekhyun protests. “Jongdae just stays awfully quiet. Very neutral. I like it.”

Jongdae coughs. “Sure. I’ll bring cookie dough ice-cream?”

“You’re the best!”

Jongdae can practically hear Chanyeol roll his eyes from his line. He and Baekhyun just laugh, figuratively fist-pumping.

 

-

 

Jongdae has a dilemma. This involves Baekhyun’s bedroom and the ridiculous amount of Chen merchandise he has in it. The posters of Chen’s face plastered on every inch of the walls and ceiling is the reason why Jongdae generally avoids going over Baekhyun’s when he can (which is rare because Baekhyun’s puppy dog eyes make him weak). Not to mention that goddamn life-size standee. It’s a few inches taller than him and he eyes it with distaste every single time.

Yeah, his alter-ego is unwanted competition. Makes sense. In Jongdae’s mess of a world—or rather, two worlds—it does. He'd like to think he’s got the whole Beyoncé-Sasha Fierce thing going on except without the fabulousness. Also, he's just a regular, _funky_ high school student and not a driven married mother with the work ethic of a forager ant. And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t endorse any secret cults, so there’s that.

Jongdae catches a glance of himself in the mirror whilst waiting for Baekhyun who is currently downstairs getting snacks—he can hear Baekhyun and his mother arguing over veggies vs crisps, as usual—and the dark brown hair that falls messily above his eyes. It’s a stark contrast to the honey blond wig he dons when he isn’t Kim Jongdae, every-day high school senior, but Chen instead, South Korea’s favourite pop star.

Who also happens to have a self-proclaimed Number #1 Fan, who goes by the name of Byun Baekhyun, every-day high school senior and best friend of Kim Jongdae.

“I can’t believe I had to go with the carrots,” Baekhyun says, his unamused voice filtering up through the stairwell. “With olive dip. Who even likes olive dip?!”

Jongdae flops back against the bed, glaring at his face with its Colgate smile from where it’s stuck on the slanted ceiling of the attic bedroom. He waits for Baekhyun to lift himself up, precariously balancing the tray of chopped vegetables in his left hand. “Actually,” Jongdae says, leaning on his elbows, “I’ve got to watch my diet. So the carrots are totally welcome.”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “Well, why don’t you shove them up your ass?” he snaps. Jongdae just chuckles as Baekhyun furiously mumbles to himself, “Diet shmiet. He’s the one with those goddamn cheekbones.”

He grabs his laptop off his desk and sits down on the bed, elbowing Jongdae in the ribs. “Hey, move up,” he says. Jongdae shuffles sideways. He takes the tray off Baekhyun and shoves two carrot sticks in between his top lip and gums in a ridiculous impression of a walrus, but it does make Baekhyun snort in reaction, which is as good as he’s gonna get.

Jongdae watches as Baekhyun puts the DVD in and crosses his fingers at his side, silently praying that the DVD’s been scratched up by Baekhyun’s evil Pomeranian or that Baekhyun, by some miracle, has decided he wants to watch Cameron Diaz’s new romcom instead of the horrible cat screeching Chen passes off as singing. Like, who even is that guy?

Unfortunately, no catastrophic things have happened to the DVD and Jongdae’s found himself cocooned in the quilt, contemplating whether Baekhyun would notice if he slowly slid himself under the bed. Baekhyun’s occupied enough, sniffling into yet another tissue as he watches his best friend giving it his all in front of thousands of screaming fans.

That tour had been hectic and insane, and honestly, the best experience of his entire life. To everyone who didn’t know his secret, Jongdae had been country-hopping around Europe for the summer. As always, Jongdae felt bad lying and he felt even worse when Baekhyun had missed out on a ticket for all three of the concerts in Seoul—he’d contemplated the idea of talking his manager, Joonmyun, into saving one for Baekhyun but he had chickened out last minute, thinking that he’d have no way to explain it. Now, Jongdae realises it could have been a _gift_ for his _best friend_ , but it’s too late now.

Anyway, Baekhyun seems like he's enjoying the concert he missed through his computer screen, softly humming the words to _Nobody’s Perfect_ and doing the fan-chant during Chen’s ‘dance-break’. The truth is, Jongdae had done nothing more than step from side to side and wave his arms around as his backup dancers did the real work. When he had teased Baekhyun about stanning a guy with two left feet though, Baekhyun had just told him that it was Chen's charm, and the whole thing had backfired when Jongdae had ended up being the one who was fighting down a blush.

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun says, eyes still trained on his laptop. Jongdae freezes, mid-way through his escape, creeping across the room like a T-Rex.

“Uh, getting ice-cream. I’ll be right back,” he replies quickly, panicking.

Baekhyun nods and sniffles a little. Jongdae smiles at the adorable sight before climbing down the ladder and padding to the kitchen. He’s always been very welcome at the Byun household, often encouraged by Baekhyun’s mother to help himself to food and stay over for dinner.

He and Baekhyun have been friends for as long as he remembers, and somewhere along the way, Jongdae’s pretty sure his feelings for Baekhyun surpassed that of friendship. At fifteen, even Baekhyun’s older brother would tease him for his blatantly obvious crush. Everyone except Baekhyun, who’s practically oblivious to anything that isn’t Chen, has noticed. Which, in a way, is both horrible and great at the same time. Jongdae’s learnt to hide his feelings by now—he’s an expert at putting up a facade.

His butt blares out _I keep telling you to loosen up my buttons babe_ ~, interrupting his thoughts. Jongdae plucks his phone from his back pocket, checking the caller I.D. before accepting the call. “Hyung, hey. What’s up?”

“Sorry for the short notice,” Joonmyun starts and Jongdae stifles a groan at what’s to come, “and _yes_ , it’s a Saturday tomorrow, but you know how it is. Yixing’s had a brain-wave and called me at three a.m. to ask me to ask you to come into the studio.”

Great. His day off. “Do I have tooooo?” Jongdae whines.

“He sounded a bit desperate. C’mon.” Joonmyun clears his throat. “As your manager—”

“Okay, okay.” Jongdae cuts him short before he goes off on _that_ tangent again. Jongdae’s heard it too many times. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” And then, Joonmyun hangs up. Jongdae would be slightly miffed, but he knows his manager’s a busy, busy guy and hasn’t got time for his teenage angst, as he likes to call it.

 

-

 

If there’s anyone who is the living embodiment of teenage angst though, it would be Zhang Yixing, Chen’s genius songwriter. He’s written six of Chen’s greatest hits and insists on working with Jongdae personally despite his own growing success in the industry.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you’ve been telling me, Jongdae,” Yixing starts, patting the spot next to him on the bench in the miniature garden of the label headquarters. “About your best friend. Baekhyun, right?”

Jongdae makes a face, shrugging his backpack off as he sits. “Yeah?”

“I want us to write a song about him. I’ve already got stuff written—”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please. Baekhyun’s not a new concept in your songs. _Some days I spend a little extra time in the morning just to impress you_ ~” He begins to sing. “ _On the outside shyin' away, on the inside dyin' to saaay_. And you can’t forget _Just Like You_. I took excerpts from your diary and—”

“Okay, I get it!” Jongdae says, a little too loudly and then backtracks. “What do you mean from my diary?” He narrows his eyes in suspicion.

Yixing laughs awkwardly. “As I was saying”—he pulls out his notebook and places it on the table in front of them—“the song will be about wanting more than friendship. Unrequited love, the entire shebang.” He slides the open book across for Jongdae to read.

 _If We Were A Movie_ is messily scrawled at the top of the page, and Jongdae skims through the lyrics before turning to Yixing with wide eyes. “I can’t sing this,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s _so_ obvious.”

Yixing leans back, crossing his arms. “Well, he doesn’t know Chen’s you, so.”

Jongdae huffs, pursing his lips. Yixing has a point, and he likes the song. A lot. Somehow, Yixing has managed to eloquently express all his thoughts in a few simple lyrics. It’s kinda… perfect.

 

-

 

In biology class, Jongdae feels a wad of paper hit the back of his head and with a roll of his eyes, he discreetly picks it up from the floor when the teacher’s back is to them. He unfolds the paper, and reads Baekhyun’s message: _we on for the mall this afternoon? wanna go shopping~_

Jongdae turns in his chair to glare at his best friend, who flashes him a smile. His original plan was to head straight home after school to study, but productive shit like that never works out when you’re friends with the laziest ass ever. And yet, Baekhyun manages to pull off straight As. It seems wholly unfair that there are people in this world who need to sit down with a textbook and a fresh pack of highlighters to achieve the good grades that are handed to Baekhyun on a silver platter.

Taking a deep breath, Jongdae writes his reply on the paper and throws it over his shoulder where it hits Baekhyun in the middle of the forehead. It’s a simple _yes_. He can practically feel Baekhyun gloating from behind him.

When the day is over, Jongdae and Baekhyun meet up at the front of the school. With their bags haphazardly hanging off their backs, they walk side-by-side to the nearby mall. Jongdae wants to stop past the tiny convenience store to get his daily sweet fix—they end up stocking on more candy than they can stuff into their backpack pouches, as usual. They stroll the rest of the way with lollipops between their lips, a comfortable silence filling the air. It’s occasionally punctured with amiable chatting and laughter. Jongdae cocks his hip against Baekhyun’s when he cracks a horrible joke and it just feels normal.

Suddenly, a tall, lanky figure whizzes past them on a skateboard, yelling out a _hey!_ They recognise him immediately, of course. Chanyeol has his shift at the Mexican restaurant in the mall, every Tuesday and Thursday after school.

“Think we can get free tacos off him again?” Baekhyun loud-whispers into Jongdae’s neck, to which he snickers. The last time they tried to freeload, Chanyeol was almost fired for abusing his employee privilege. It wasn’t really the funniest of situations as Chanyeol honestly did need the money to help out his mother, but Baekhyun and Jongdae had already apologised profusely to his manager with the promise to never take advantage of their friend again. They kinda miss the free tacos though.

“Where are we going first?” Jongdae asks once they’re in the air-conditioned mall. He shivers, tightly pulling his cardigan around his body.

He almost chokes on his lollipop stick when Baekhyun slams his body against Jongdae’s, wrapping his arms around him and nosing the back of his neck. “The merch shop, of course,” he says.

Jongdae sighs. Of course. “Okay, lead the way,” he says.

Baekhyun walks them through the mall, and the way they’re attached to each other makes for a lot of stumbling over feet and many disgruntled shoppers. Eventually Baekhyun gives up and lets go of Jongdae. Jongdae sighs, feeling cold again until Baekhyun grabs his hand and drags him into the store.

While Baekhyun scans the Chen section—he’s practically memorised it anyway; Jongdae’s sure he could probably do stocks or something—Jongdae takes refuge in between mega-rolls of SNSD posters. He glances to his left and gets an eyeful of Taeyeon and decides that this probably isn’t the best idea. Once, he’d knocked over a collectable DBSK vase (who decided that they would be a good selling point? They’re old, but not that old) while hastily running away from Baekhyun, who had held up a Chen mousepad next to Jongdae’s head, and had to pay for it from his own pocket.

And sometimes, the girl who works here eyes Jongdae strangely, like she knows his secret, or at least finds him oddly familiar, so it’s understandable Jongdae would feel extremely uncomfortable in this store.

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun calls from the next aisle over. Jongdae hesitantly walks over and Baekhyun shows him a calendar, featuring photos from possibly the worst shoot he’s ever done. He still has nightmares about those tassels. “So, think I should get it? This was one of my favourite photoshoots.”

Jongdae gives him a sceptical look. “Uh, don’t you think it’s a bit late in the year to buy a calendar?”

Baekhyun shrugs. “You’re right. I’ll get the notebook instead.” Jongdae wants to stop him because _you’re wasting all your money_ but Baekhyun doesn’t really care. “Want anything?” he says cheekily once they’re at the counter. Jongdae fixes him a look. As much as Baekhyun wants to convert him into a Chen stan, he doesn’t exactly see how that would work.

They window-shop for a while before taking a detour to the food hall and Chanyeol’s workplace. Chanyeol’s diligently making the special cheese jerky taco in the visible kitchen and only looks up when they call his name a couple times. When his head jerks up, his cheeks are an unusual flushed pink.

“Yo,” he says, looking visibly flustered. Baekhyun and Jongdae share a perplexed look. They wait for him to hand the taco to the waiting customer, with a practiced _freaky freaky fresh_ ~.

“What’s up with you?” Jongdae asks, leaning against the counter.

Chanyeol glances past them before he says, “Nothin’.”

Baekhyun and Jongdae, knowing him too well, slowly turn around to try and see what Chanyeol’s looking at. There are only random families eating fast food and a pretty lady working the sushi train across the hall and— _oh_. They turn back to Chanyeol, who seems to find his scuffed-up sneakers the most interesting things in the world.

“Dude.” Jongdae says dryly, “You’re crushing on someone old enough to remember The Beatles?”

“The _who_?” Baekhyun asks.

“Them too!”

Chanyeol huffs indignantly. “You can’t even talk. You were head over heels for Miss Zhang last year, might I remind you.”

“He didn’t like her _that much_ ,” Baekhyun says, defensively.

Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol serves the next customer. He makes Baekhyun and Jongdae a couple of tacos, which they graciously pay for, and they chat for a while. Turns out, the lady is only in her mid-twenties, which is still far too unattainable for a high school kid like Chanyeol, as he despondently concludes. Baekhyun and Jongdae tease him incessantly, before heading home and leaving their friend to mope over his salsa and guacamole.

They part ways at the intersection, leading to their respective houses with a fist bump. “Toodles!” Jongdae calls out to a retreating Baekhyun and his best friend turns around and blows him a kiss before skipping away.

 

-

 

Mathematics has never been one of Jongdae’s strong points, but for what he lacks in talent he makes up for in hard work. That’s usually why he ends up at home on a Friday night, revising his notes when his friends are Jongin’s (they say they’re partying hard, but Jongdae knows they’re probably sculling punch and playing video games). They call him boring yet what they don’t know is that between school and work, Jongdae barely has any time to keep up with his studies.

It’s times like this, glaring at the shreds of his truly abysmal last report card in his paper bin, that make him question whether this is all worth it. His double life.

Jongdae thinks somewhere along the road, the line between Kim Jongdae and Chen became so blurred that he couldn’t bring himself to step back and see the full picture—someday, will he have to choose?

Jongdae sighs, typing a formula into his calculator. It always boils down to that: his family and friends, or music.

The tour during the summer had really opened his eyes, showed him the ups and downs of fame and made him realise how much he wants this. When he returned to high school, it hit him just how contrastingly mundane and routine his normal life is.

He chews on an onion ring, trying to block out Jongdeok’s loud house music blaring in the next room over. In the end though, both of Jongdae’s lives are a part of him that he can’t bring himself to separate just yet.

 

-

 

Jongdae closes his mouth, his last note hanging in the air.

“Your voice sounds so familiar,” the choir leader muses, squinting his eyes. “I can’t pinpoint it though.”

Jongdae chuckles uncomfortably, staring somewhere that isn’t the man’s curious gaze. He’s got himself into a right pickle. Baekhyun had begged and pleaded for Jongdae to accompany him to choir after school and he’d eventually succumbed after relentless guilt-tripping—“Your voice is amazing, Jongdae,” and a much softer and slightly concerned, “You lived for singing, what happened?”—and gone to choir. Talk about #REGRETS.

“You know what. Might be one of those idols my daughter loves—”

“Okay!” Jongdae exclaims quickly. “I have to, uh, go water my cacti. High maintenance and all, you see. Ha ha.” Baekhyun shoots him a quizzical look, which he ignores with a grin, and continues to milk the excuse for what it’s worth. “I’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

“You—” Baekhyun starts, but Jongdae’s already on his way out, bowing to the class and thanking the teacher. “Monday, yeah.” Baekhyun shakes his head in disbelief, diverting his attention back to the circle.

Jongdae makes a mental note to keep a ten-mile radius from the choir group at all times from this day on.

 

-

 

Jongdae autographs Zitao and Sehun’s albums, honey-blond hair styled up and out of his face. The pair are in the grade below him at school, and through their connections had managed to arrange a meeting with Chen.

“You know, I swear I’ve seen you before,” Zitao says, peering at Chen. “Right Sehun?”

Jongdae leans back as Zitao literally inspects his pores, as Sehun deadpans, “He looks like Kim Jongdae.”

Shit.

Zitao chews over the statement for a few moments. “That kid? Nah.”

They both share a glance before pressing the tips of their index fingers together and exclaiming, “Ooh tss.” Jongdae rolls his eyes, slowly walking backwards to escape the pair, while Zitao says to Sehun, “Daddy said I could take a photo with him. Where is he going?” and stomps his foot on the ground.

Jongdae catches one last glance of Sehun patting Zitao’s hair with an uninterested look on his face before he stumbles into his dressing room to get to the mirror.

He adjusts his honey-blond wig and takes a deep breath. Perfect.

A sudden curt knock on the door resounds through the room, startling him. It’s Joonmyun, looking awfully chipper. Jongdae narrows his eyes suspiciously at Joonmyun’s wide grin and—

“You’re blond.”

“Yes.”

“ _Blond_.”

“That’s right.”

“You look like Dolly Parton’s poodle.”

Joonmyun simply continues smiling. “So,” he says through his teeth, and Jongdae smacks his arm until he loosens up, “Can you get your ass out of there? The ceremony’s starting in five and I want you to meet someone.”

Jongdae resigns himself to being dragged through the corridors by his manager like a petulant oversized child in a very tight-fitting suit. “What am I nominated for again?” He asks once they reach the main area of the venue. They squeeze through the congregation of idols, who smile and wave and greet Chen like he’s not just a kid and actually an idol, and by the time they get to their table, Jongdae’s pretty sure his back is going to stay perpetually stuck at a 90 degree angle. Like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, except cuter.

“OST of the Year and Best Album.” Joonmyun states, and Jongdae’s eyes widen at his words. He’s won awards before—in fact, his first was Rookie of the Year, two years ago—but this is something else. The fact that he’s even nominated just proves to Jongdae how worthwhile being Chen is.

It’s moments like these, standing in front of a sea of well-respected professionals in the industry, a golden weight in his hands, that truly make it worth it. When they call out his name for Best Album, he walks up to the stage, leaning into the microphone stand.

“Thank you to the company for providing me with this opportunity to me sing, to my manager, Kim Joonmyun, for sticking by me through everything, and to Zhang Yixing for understanding me so well,” he says to the audience, tears welling up in his eyes. He shifts his gaze to the head-on camera pointed at him. “The fans have been so supportive, through thick and thin, and have never let me down. I love you all.

And lastly, thank you to my family and my friends, for letting me be myself.”

Jongdae bows, blinking back his tears, and when he stands straight, he’s composed and smiling.

At his table, there’s a familiar face in his previously empty chair. He bows, sticking out a hand. “D.O sunbaenim, nice to finally meet you,” he says.

D.O shares a glance with Joonmyun and stands up, moving to the next seat after shaking Jongdae’s hand. “Please, call me Kyungsoo-hyung,” he says coolly. “Congratulations on the award.”

Jongdae tests it out, the syllables rolling over his tongue. “Thank you, Kyungsoo-hyung.” The atmosphere is silent, and a bit tense, although Jongdae can’t tell why. It’s Joonmyun who then initiates conversation between the three of them, commenting on Girl’s Day’s performance on the stage. It kickstarts a discussion between Kyungsoo and Jongdae about which of their title songs were the best. Jongdae is impressed by Kyungsoo’s well-versed argument but he still stands by _Something_ over _Twinkle Twinkle_.

“Don’t you look into my eyes and lie again~” he sings, holding out his fork for Kyungsoo, but the latter merely smiles and gently hits his arm, so he continues himself. “I’m sick of being alone~”

Joonmyun then announces something that Jongdae doesn’t pay attention to, until he backtracks at the words “date” and “Kyungsoo”.

“Hotshot Honcho, say what?!”

“I said,” Joonmyun replies with an unsettling smirk on his face, “you two are scheduled for a date next Saturday.”

“But—” Jongdae’s supposed to be going to the movies with Baekhyun on Saturday. He spares a glance at Kyungsoo, who only shrugs. “Why?”

“It’s good for both your images.”

For fear of offending Kyungsoo, Jongdae swallows down his remark and nods, brainstorming different ways to fake his death to get out of the date when he focuses his attention back on the stage.

 

-

 

It’s late when Jongdae gets back to his dressing room and he’s so tired he could pass out on the couch and stay here overnight. He sighs, grateful for the bit of alone time he has before he’s driven home, and he reaches up to pull off his wig before—

_CRASH!_

Jongdae yelps in surprise, hand flying to his chest as he watches a person in a beanie fly through the window. He takes one glance at Jongdae, who is shell-shocked and rooted in his spot, and decides this was a horrible idea and then jumps—

and falls to his untimely death.

Or at least that’s what Jongdae thinks as he runs to the window. Luckily it’s only one level, and the dude lands on the bushes barely a metre to the ground. “You okay?” Jongdae calls down. The boy merely grunts in response before lifting himself up and stalking off, brushing bits of leaves off his clothes. His gait is familiar, but Jongdae’s too astonished by the situation to think anything but _I can’t fucking wait to go home_.

 

-

 

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae calls out, his friend turning around at the sound of his name. “What movie are we seeing?”

Baekhyun leans in close when Jongdae reaches him, hissing into his ear, “Don’t fucking tell anyone, but I want to watch _The Fault In our Stars_.” Jongdae snorts and Baekhyun hits him. “You’re a huge sap too, underneath all that snark.”

Jongdae grins. “Have you ever seen me cry?”

“One day,” Baekhyun says, “one day I’ll witness it and it will be greater than the Second Coming of Christ.”

“I’m honoured you have such high standards of me. Come on, let’s go in. I wanna get popcorn before doors open.”

As Baekhyun waits at the Candy Shop counter, Jongdae clicks his phone on, watching as the screen lights up with a message from Do Kyungsoo: I’m assuming you know Joonmyun’s booked a table for us at The Grand. 7pm, right? I’ll see you there.

Jongdae groans. Right, the date. He totally forgot.

He checks the time on his phone. It’s 6:20 and the movie starts in five. He glances up at Baekhyun approaching him with a carton of popcorn, two giant soft drinks and a cheerful smile. “Someone’s popular,” Baekhyun remarks, nodding at Jongdae’s phone.

Jongdae just laughs, grabbing his soft drink. Okay, he can make it. The movie’s roughly an hour and a half right? He can watch a bit of the film and fake a stomach bug or something.

They find their seats—always the middle—and settle down. As the ads roll on the screen, Baekhyun asks why Jongdae is fidgeting. Jongdae says he's feeling a little unwell.

Baekhyun presses the back of his hand against Jongdae's forehead. "Yeah, you do feel a bit hot. Wanna skip?"

"Nah, we can stay." Shit. Why did he say that? He had the golden opportunity and he missed it. The atmosphere is so tense that Jongdae can practically hear Freddie Mercury cooing _Under Pressure_ into his ear.

It’s barely twenty minutes into the movie and Jongdae’s got a sobbing best friend to the left of him and a buzzing phone, probably spammed with angry texts from Joonmyun ranging Hey, can you please meet the driver outside your house? and get ur scrawny ass downstairs or i’ll sic noona on u. she like a puma rAWR XD wait i meant *angry face emoji*. 

Jongdae really can’t take him seriously but he doesn’t fancy standing Kyungsoo up and getting in trouble lest it gets to his _dad_.

He groans, wrapping his arm around his stomach in a show of pain.

“Are you okay dude?” Baekhyun asks, absentmindedly rubbing circles into Jongdae’s knee with his thumb.

Jongdae gulps, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he says, and Baekhyun offers to go with him, but Jongdae’s already out of his seat and flying down the aisles to his untimely escape.

Once he’s in the safety of the car park, Jongdae texts Baekhyun, saying that he threw up and had to go home. He fights down the completely ironic bile of guilt that threatens to rise up his throat and shoots his driver a text with his location.

His phone buzzes with Baekhyun’s concerned message and a photo attached of him pouting miserably into the camera. Jongdae peers closer and sees that his eyes are wet and shiny and it makes him feel even more shitty about himself because he should be there comforting Baekhyun through angsty blockbusters.

 

-

 

The restaurant Joonmyun booked for Jongdae and Kyungsoo is less hidden than he expected, but quiet and intimate nonetheless. Jongdae’s surprised, but he supposes that was Joonmyun’s intention all along. He _wants_ them to be found out.

“Sorry I’m late, hyung,” Jongdae hastily apologises after he’s escorted to his table and slides into the seat opposite Kyungsoo. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

Kyungsoo looks up, eyes as large as ever, from where he was playing around with his phone. “Not too long. How are you?”

They chat, digging into their food, and if it were any other way, Jongdae thinks he could really like Kyungsoo. He’s the complete opposite of Baekhyun—soft-spoken with a drier sense of humour, and wears his heart hidden behind his ear instead of on his sleeve.

“Can I ask you something?” Jongdae says after a long bout of silence. “Why are you doing this?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Favours.”

“Favours,” Jongdae echoes. He’s still confused, but he leaves it be.

That’s the entertainment industry for you, full of people doing things for reasons unknown even to themselves, for some out-of-reach goal hidden in the stars. It never really comes to a halt though. You never wake up one day and think, _I’ve made it_.

The sound of a camera shutter goes off somewhere in the distance, interrupting his thoughts. Jongdae is so attuned to the noise that he can spot it like a firefly in the night sky. He and Kyungsoo automatically turn away from the source of the sound, continuing their peaceful conversation.

“Hyung.” Jongdae says, after a while, “We should go.” They’ve got their pictures now, just like Joonmyun wanted.

Kyungsoo nods, taking Jongdae’s hand, shielding him from the small gathering of people with their phones out, outside the restaurant. He hugs Jongdae quickly once they’re at their respective cars, whispering in Jongdae’s ear before he leaves, “I usually give my dates a goodnight kiss, but you’re a little too young for me.”

He smiles softly, dropping Jongdae’s hand, and once he’s left, Jongdae exhales. He shoots Joonmyun a text saying the date went well, and then tacks on: don’t u think i’m too young?

Barely three minutes later, Jongdae’s phone buzzes: the public’s gonna eat up the whole “first love” thing. it’s cute. 

Jongdae lets out an annoyed huff. His life isn’t one of those television dramas. And besides, it’s even not his first love. Not even his love, period.

As if he’s in tune with Jongdae’s thoughts, Jongdae gets a message, this time from Baekhyun: jagiyaaa i hope ur ok :’( i miss u

To quote the blurb of one of those teenage romance novels Jongdae’s always being gifted, the first love is always the hardest.

 

-

 

“My heart is broken,” Baekhyun moans. “Shattered. Into a million tiny pieces. How will I go on?” He slumps down on the library chair, and Jongdae kneels down next to him, patting his knee in the hopes of comforting his dramatic best friend.

“Uh… It’s not that bad?” starts Jongdae, wracking his brain for the right thing to say. “I bet they’ll last two days.”

Baekhyun flops face-first onto the table with a low groan, sliding his phone across to Jongdae. The photos, Jongdae has to admit, are pretty intimate. He doesn’t even remember leaning in that close to Kyungsoo. Who are they, One Direction? No one needs to make out with a person’s ear to pass along a message, no matter how homoerotic you like to play the game.

“Did you see? They’re even _hugging_. My life is over,” whines Baekhyun.

Jongdae smiles in amusement, running his hands through Baekhyun’s dark hair. It’s not like it meant anything, anyway. He wishes he could tell Baekhyun that, but right now, all he can offer are cuddles and a trip to the local cafe for cake and iced coffees.

They walk arm in arm down the street, Baekhyun moping into his glass once they’re inside the cafe, cooped up on a tiny couch in the corner. Jongdae guzzles down his coffee, making a horribly obnoxious slurping noise with his straw when he gets to the end, and without food to occupy himself, he now must face the great challenge that is cheering Baekhyun up.

There’s a book of poetry on the coffee table, probably there for Indie Aesthetic purposes than for someone to actually read, but Jongdae likes to go against the grain. Leaning back against the couch, he flicks to a random page, clears his throat and begins to read.

“ _i like my body when it is with your_ —” He pauses and Baekhyun eyes him in confusion. Well. He’s not one to leave something unfinished. “ _body… i like your body, i like what it does_.”

Instead of questioning it, Baekhyun leans against Jongdae with a bemused giggle, so he continues. “ _the trembling firm smoothness and which i will again and again and again kiss._ ” Jongdae closes his eyes, his senses buzzing with Baekhyun’s proximity. “ _slowly stroking the shocking fuzz of your electric fur… and big-love crumbs._ ”

“What?” Baekhyun snorts.

“ _Electric fur_ ,” Jongdae repeats seriously.

“Don’t forget _big-love crumbs_.”

They burst into a fit of giggles, Baekhyun slapping Jongdae’s knee, wiping his eyes in mirth. Jongdae’s laughter slowly dissolves into a more serious tone, and he pushes up his glasses. “Hey, it’s poetry. Don’t judge,” he says.

Baekhyun takes one look at the expression on Jongdae’s face and bursts into laughter again. “Since when were you a patron for the rights of angsty writers?”

Jongdae pouts, “Since I became a nice person. The grass is greener over here,” he says with a shrug.

His phone buzzes in his pocket while Baekhyun’s pretending to pummel his arm, and he snakes it out, covertly glancing at it. The text could be anything from u left expired milk on the counter for me this morning, u absolute snotrag or i bought u a new wig today! hwaiting! kekeke.

Instead, it’s a message from Yixing saying quick, listen to sukira. they’re playing your new song now!!!

Sweet niblets, Jongdae had forgotten about that. It was the perfect timing after the ‘scandal’ yesterday, which had been frankly uneventful as far as the media was concerned, but had gained Chen some overnight attention as it was. Over the speakers, he can hear himself introducing his song in a pre-recording.

Baekhyun gasps, clutching onto Jongdae’s arm. “I didn’t know Chen was releasing a song! I’m such a bad fan!”

“I’m pretty sure it was kept hush-hush. Now shut up if you wanna—” Baekhyun smacks a hand over Jongdae’s mouth as the beginning chords of the song begin to play. The nerve, Jongdae thinks with a roll of his eyes.

“ _We signed our cards and letters ‘BFF,’ you’ve got a million ways to make me laugh_ ~” Jongdae smiles. He can hear the sincerity bleed through his voice, just as clear as it had been when he was recording in the studio. “ _You know the secrets I could never tell. And when I’m quiet, you break through my shell_ ~” Jongdae had been a bit hesitant adding that line in because it’s not exactly _true_ , and it had taken him five tries to stop sounding like his grandma’s puppy when it accidentally peed on the coffee table and was sent outside in the rain.

Beside him, Baekhyun lets out a little choked sob when the chorus begins. “ _You’re a true friend, you’re here till the end._ ” His nails dig into Jongdae’s bicep. “ _You pull me aside when something ain’t right, talk with me now, and into the night. Till it’s alright again_ ~”

“You’re a true friend,” Jongdae whispers along with himself, brushing away the one lone tear that has escaped Baekhyun’s squeezed-shut eyes.

Baekhyun’s eyes open, widening in surprise. He stares at Jongdae contemplatively, but then shakes his head. “It’s so good. I’m so—I can’t breathe. What is air?!”

Jongdae laughs, then catches something on the radio as the last chords fade out. His stomach sinks in anticipation. Dang flabbit, he’d forgotten about this too.

He hears his own voice saying, “I’ve got some great news for my fans! One of you will have the chance to win a date with me for an evening, a signed copy of my new mini album, and two selcas. The details are up on my website. I look forward to meeting a very lucky fan of mine, good luck!

“Oh. My. God,” Baekhyun says, shaking Jongdae’s abused arm. “This is my chance! You have to help me!” Then, he notices Jongdae’s pale face. “Well, calm down, Jongdae.”

“If I was any calmer, I’d be dead,” Jongdae deadpans.

Baekhyun ignores him. “Let’s go back to mine. We need to suss this out,” he says. He wriggles in excitement, and that’s when Jongdae realises he won’t rest until he wins this competition. He could literally throttle Joonmyun right now for coming up with the idea, Jongdae thinks as he’s dragged out of the cafe by his ~~true~~ best friend.

-

The thing about family meetings is, well, they never have them. Jongdeok plonks down on his little brother’s lap, smelling of Axe and sweat and something else. Something suspicious.

“Get off me you needle dick!” Jongdae shouts, holding his breath and using all the measly upper-body strength he has to shove his brother off him. Seriously, what the fuck?! WHO MASTURBATES AT 4 IN THE AFTERNOON?!

Jongdeok laughs, sitting on the other side of the couch and throwing his legs over Jongdae. He’d be fine with this if his brother’s feet didn’t smell of that five-month old sandwich he’d found in his bedroom that one time. Jongdae had taken the ‘Danger’ sign on the door seriously after that. With a sigh, Jongdae resigns himself to being Jongdeok’s human footrest, tapping his fingers against the armrest in the wait for his father.

“Why did Dad even call a family meeting?” Jongdeok says, leaning his head back against his palms. “I hate family meetings.”

“We never have family meetings,” Jongdae narrows his eyes, “What did you do?”

Jongdeok glares back, “What do you mean what did _I_ do? What did _you_ do?”

“I did nothing. I never do anything,” Jongdae scoffs.

“Listen, it doesn't matter who did what, as long as we stay united, stay strong and stand together!” His brother shouts the last bit, holding out his fist and then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees their dad approaching and the fist turns into a pointed finger. “He did it; I saw it with my own eyes! You should be ashamed of yourself, Jongdae.”

Jongdae raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms. He turns to his father, blinking innocently. Whatever it is he wants to talk to them about, Jongdae knows he’ll get away with it because, quote, unquote, he is the Angel Child and Jongdeok is the Scum of the Earth.

“What, did Grandma tell you that on our last trip to the farm?” Jongdeok laughs. “I bet she only said it because she wanted you to get the chicken eggs. And I bet you did it, you hillbilly loser.”

Jongdae makes a face. “Well. At least I didn’t go out and scoop horse manure just because Grandma said she’d knit me a special sweater with my initials on it.”

Jongdeok opens his mouth to retort, but their dad is clearing his throat. “Now kids, settle down. I have some good and bad news for you,” he begins.

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Jongdeok says, rubbing his arms.

“Well, take it outside, kiddo, I don’t have earthquake insurance!” He snorts at his joke. “Dang flabbit, where was I?”

“Good news, bad news. Yin, yang. Sun, moon,” Jongdae says.

“Jongdae, Baekhyun,” Jongdeok tacks on, cackling.

“Wow,” Jongdae says in disbelief. “I never took you for a romantic, hyung.”

“What can I say, lil bro? Quote some Keats, and you got the girls falling at your feet.”

“Keats’s most famous poems were about death,” Jongdae deadpans.

“See? Tragedy totally gets girls wet.” Jongdae pulls a face. What a dog.

“Anyway!” their dad shouts. “As I was saying, something’s happened to me recently.”

“The good or the bad first?”

Their dad holds out a palm. “Wait, I’m getting to it. I don’t know if you both have noticed but I’ve been a lot more chipper as of late.”

“He’s gotten a girlfriend,” Jongdeok whisper-shouts to Jongdae behind the back of his hand.

“For real?” Jongdae whispers back. Telling by the deep blush that overcomes their father’s face, it’s obviously true. “You the man, Dad. Finally fixing that achy breaky heart of yours. Now, the bad news?”

Their dad coughs. “Uh. That’s the bad news too. I wasn’t sure how you would take it, with your mother having left and everything. I know you both still—” He pauses at the sight of his two sons high-fiving each other, bellowing victory roars. “That’s not all, though. She’s actually your English teacher, Miss Park.” He sticks out a thumb in Jongdae’s direction.

“Miss Park? She teaches middle school,” Jongdeok says, before turning to Jongdae. “I thought you were graduating.”

“I am.”

“Yeah, elementary school!” When no one laughs at the jab, Jongdeok sinks into the couch. “No, really. How’d you run into her, Dad?”

He shrugs. “That doesn’t matter. But I’m bringing her over for dinner tomorrow night so I just wanted to clear it with you two.”

Jongdae leaps up, cuddling his father. “I’m glad you’re happy, Dad.” He’s surprised at Jongdae’s affection at first, unsure of what to do with his hands before he pats Jongdae’s back, giving Jongdeok a look. Jongdeok just shrugs, scrunching his nose and Jongdae sighs happily.

 

-

 

“You ready?” Jongdae whispers, twisting the collar of his black turtleneck so it sits more comfortably. He does a roll on the hard floor of the mall and stands up, with some effort, pressing himself against the wall and sneaking a peek around the corner of the corridor leading to the toilets.

Chanyeol shoots him a _could you be more subtle?_ look, pushing down Jongdae’s finger gun. Jongdae pouts. He’s only trying to get in character.

“Shit,” hisses Chanyeol. “Get back.”

“James Bond, say what?” Jongdae, being the great wingman he is, doesn’t react in time and bumps into a person walking around the corner. She almost stumbles back until Jongdae catches her, and sweet niblets, it’s that lady Chanyeol's crushing on. He almost drops her in surprise before a pair of hands take over from Jongdae. Jongdae has to hand it to him; Chanyeol can be a charmer when he tries.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae says, bowing his head. “Noona.”

She flashes him a smile. “That’s okay.” Glancing at Chanyeol in recognition, she says, “Oh! You work across from me.”

Chanyeol scratches the back of his neck, looking at a loss for words. “I do. Uh, do you want to come and get a taco sometime?”

“Sure.” She smiles again, the sight blinding. Jongdae’s impressed that Chanyeol even tried. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.”

She pushes past them, Chanyeol’s gaze following her, a shell-shocked expression on his face. And then, he calls out, “See you around, noona!” She turns back and waves, laughing at his deep blush.

“Chanyeol.” Jongdae says.

His friend hums in response.

“You dropped something.”

“What?”

“Your dignity.”

Chanyeol groans, burying his face in his hands and Jongdae laughs, smacking his butt. “Atta boy. Now, back to our mission.”

 

-

 

They’ve been trailing Baekhyun and his date, a friend of Baekbeom’s in college, Lu Han, for thirty minutes now. Seems like they’re headed for a house party outside the city, and the exertion is taking its toll on Chanyeol’s sickly, rusted pick-up truck. It hiccups pathetically, but Chanyeol assures Jongdae it won’t die on his watch.

“It’s strong,” he says, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Jongdae shakes his head, sinking into his seat when Lu Han’s car appears in their line of vision again. “I’m gonna be in the friendzone forever.”

“Dude. The friendzone doesn’t exist,” Chanyeol says, seriously. “It’s just an excuse men use when girls turn them down.”

Jongdae looks at him incredulously.

“What? I called Yura a bitch and she sat me down, Power Point and everything. Did you know pee doesn’t actually come out of the vagina?”

“TMI, man.” Jongdae wrinkles his nose.

“Anyway, the point is, why don’t you just tell Baekhyun you like him?” The Wise One states simply. “He likes you too, you know.”

“Yeah, sure. He likes Chen.” And Jongdae doesn’t think he can redeem himself if he tells Baekhyun the truth now.

“Suit yourself,” Chanyeol says with a shrug.

Lu Han’s car takes a left turn and they trail them from a distance. Soon, they hear loud house music blasting from a two-storey house on the outskirts of the forest. The sight would be eerie if not for all the drunken youths spilling out of the house and sprawled across the lawn and the bright coloured lights flashing through the windows.

Chanyeol parks his truck a couple hundred metres away, and they walk to the house together, blending inconspicuously in with the dark night sky. They tiptoe over pissed teenagers in the front yard and reach the door, a realisation dawning on Jongdae. What the hell is he going to do when he sees Baekhyun? _Oh hey, I was passing by the area. Going for a stroll through the woods, you know how it is. See, I’ve even got my pet dog with me_.

“You know, I had a dream like this once,” Chanyeol says, once they enter the house, squeezing past the throng of people to find an open space. “Except the room was filled with Jessica Simpsons and I had more than one chest hair.”

“Say what?”

“KEEEEEEEEEEG!” Chanyeol hollers, beating his chest. Jongdae follows him into the living room with a shake of his head, flopping down onto the tiny spot free on the couch as he watches his friend challenge the last winner.

His eyes wander until he spots Baekhyun in the corner, standing close to Lu Han as they whisper about God-knows-what. Jongdae sinks into the couch, sneaking glances at them. He should be the only one allowed to make Baekhyun laugh like that, whether he’s Chen or Jongdae.

“Why so sour for?” Chanyeol says as he makes his return, beer dripping down his chin. Jongdae makes a motion with his head in Baekhyun’s general direction. “Ah. Baekhyun!”

Jongdae hisses, pulling Chanyeol down, who falls on his lap with a grunt. “What are you doing?!”

It’s too late. Baekhyun’s already spotted them out, waving the pair over with a wide grin. Chanyeol bounds over, Jongdae trudging behind him with a scowl, and pulls Baekhyun in for a hug.

“I didn’t know you guys were coming! Why aren’t you studying Jongdae?” Baekhyun says, eyes dancing.

Shrugging, Jongdae says, “Chanyeol dragged me here.” That earns him a scoff from Chanyeol, but he doesn’t contest the statement, bless his cotton socks.

Lu Han observes them with curiosity until Baekhyun introduces him. He shakes Jongdae’s hand, the latter squeezing just a tad bit tighter than what is considered socially acceptable. “Drinks, kids?” Lu Han says, and Jongdae tries to keep the look of disdain off his face. He’s only what, two years older than them? How obnoxious.

They follow him into the kitchen, Baekhyun pinching Jongdae on the way there. “Can you not look so…”

“Jealous?” Chanyeol finishes helpfully.

“What? Why would he be jealous?” Baekhyun snorts. “More like protective. Stop, Lu Han’s a chill guy, okay. I might even get some.”

Jongdae laughs at that. “You’ll get your first kiss, if you’re lucky.”

Baekhyun pouts, propping himself up on the counter as Lu Han pours them drinks, oblivious to the conversation. “Oh my god, VB, really? What kind of plebeian are you?”

Chuckling, Lu Han takes an impressive gulp of his beer. “Of the poor, college student-variety.”

“Guinness is where it’s at,” Chanyeol pitches in. Lu Han simply shakes his head, smiling. “Ah, isn’t that interesting though. You have your opinion and he’s got his.” He slips an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders. “You’ve gotta love a guy who’s not afraid to say it straight!”

“I’m a little afraid to say anything right now.” Lu Han says, leaning against the sink.

“Nah, if everybody says that they like hamburgers, then you’re not afraid to say that you like hot dogs! Right?” Chanyeol persists. Jongdae pinches his hip; Chanyeol’s supposed to be on his side!

Lu Han glances helplessly at Baekhyun. “Oookay.”

“And some people like skiing, and you’re not afraid to say that you like snowboarding!”

The familiar instrumental of _Let’s Get Crazy_ begin play on the speakers, Baekhyun’s face lighting up.

“Yeah! Some people like Chen, and I'm not afraid to say he stinks!” Lu Han exclaims, pointing at the speakers.

“Abso—” Baekhyun starts enthusiastically, “What?!”

“Son of a gun,” Chanyeol sadly says. “ _Shot_.”

Baekhyun lands on his two feet, shooting Lu Han the dirtiest look. "Ugh. Good _bye_."

The three of them walk out of the kitchen as Lu Han calls out, "Was it something I said?!"

Slipping both his arms into Chanyeol's and Jongdae's, Baekhyun grins and says, "Let's get wasted, boys."

 

-

 

"Let's never get wasted again." Jongdae groans, flopping his head onto Baekhyun’s bare stomach.

Probably not the best of ideas—Baekhyun shoves him off and he falls helplessly on the carpet. "Dude, whose place is this anyway?" Chanyeol mumbles, sitting up. He's sprawled out on the floor next to Jongdae, while Baekhyun's on the couch.

"Lu Han's," Baekhyun mutters. "Oh. _Lu Han's_."

The realisation works as a miraculous hangover cure, and they scramble up, weaving their way through the large house, with some effort and close calls with puke, to find the front door.

After piling into Chanyeol's truck, they drive back to the city, singing along with the morning pop tunes on the radio. "We should go on a road trip one day," Baekhyun muses. "Live the American Dream."

"We live in Korea."

"Close enough."

Chanyeol drops Jongdae off first; he waves at his friends as they drive away, and then attempts to stumble into his home in the most covert way possible. He kinda reeks of alcohol and his throat is dry as fuck. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get in trouble with both his Dad _and_ Joonmyun.

Luckily, the house is empty. Jongdae sighs in relief and takes the opportunity to drink straight from the tap, the sweet, sweet water quenching his thirst.

After a freshening shower and pathetic stab at his homework, Jongdae falls asleep in a beanbag. He wakes up some hours later, squinting at his bedside clock.

5:00 p.m. Why does that time strangely resonate with him?

Jongdae picks up his phone, heart sinking at the sight of 12 missed calls and 34 new messages.

He starts with the latest message from Joonmyun which reads: driver's here to pick u up for date with ksoo

Oh, right. That.

Jongdae pushes himself up, running a hand through his hair. He pulls on his wig from where it's situated in the Top Secret Popstar Chen wardrobe hidden behind his Everyday Jongdae wardrobe. He looks passable, not as funky as Chen usually dresses, but he can get away with it. Start a new trend or something.

The second date’s at another restaurant, this time one that specialises in teppanyaki, and Jongdae’s escorted to a private room with Kyungsoo.

“You okay? Sorry, I’m late,” Jongdae says.

“No worries, mate,” Kyungsoo replies. “I’m great.”

“Whoa, slow down, Busta Rhymes,” Jongdae teases. It earns him a laugh from Kyungsoo, who was previously looking a bit subdued.

The silence is comfortable as they watch the chef in fascination, eyes following his movements attentively. They’re in the middle of their meal, Jongdae in fits of laughter as Kyungsoo recounts the time his pants ripped on stage when Kyungsoo’s bedazzled phone lights up with a call.

“Whoa, you have the latest edition Z-phone?”

Kyungsoo nods, fumbling for the phone, and he obviously accidentally presses a button because a hologram appears above the screen, looking suspiciously like the figure of Joonmyun.

“Kyungsoo?” Tiny Joonmyun says, hands on his hips. Jongdae watches on in surprise as Joonmyun’s voice goes soft. “How’s the date going?” Kyungsoo’s large eyes glance at Jongdae, and Joonmyun follows his line of vision.

“Uh, hi?” Jongdae says, waving.

Joonmyun grins. “You should ask your dad for a Z-phone, hey? So we can Z-chat.” He glances at Kyungsoo. “It’s great right, Soo?” Kyungsoo nods.

Jongdae laughs. “Mine’s in the Z-box!” And then quietly to himself, he says, “In the Z-store. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I need the bathroom.”

If he’s not mistaken, Kyungsoo sighs in relief as he leaves the room.

He spends an unnecessary amount of time procrastinating in the empty bathroom, peeing swirls and zigzags into the toilet bowl, carving J + B = ♡ into a stall wall and fixing his wig in the mirror.

As Jongdae’s pulling on his wig back on, tufts of brown hair peeking out, the bathroom door swings open.

And there’s Park Chanyeol, staring at him in surprise.

“Chen?” he chokes, out. “ _Jongdae_?”

“Uh.” Jongdae’s mouth opens and closes. He settles on a very sheepish, “No?”

“You—” Chanyeol says, looking stricken. “You’re the same person?”

“Listen, Chanyeol,” Jongdae starts, afraid of his friend’s reaction turning salty.

Chanyeol bursts into laughter, hitting a stall door. “So let me get this straight,” he wheezes. “You were Chen in the limo, when I was hanging upside down?”

“I guess?” Jongdae resists the urge to drag out the lie, resigning himself to telling Chanyeol the truth.

“And backstage when I was hanging out the window?”

That was Chanyeol? “Yup.”

“And when I hid in the bass drum on your tour bus all the way to Daegu?”

“Yup… wait what?”

Chanyeol laughs awkwardly. “Anyway, I can’t believe this man. Are you gonna tell Baekhyun?”

Jongdae’s face crumples, stuffing the rest of his natural hair into the wig. “How would I drop a bomb like that on him? _Hey, I’ve been lying to your for three years now. I’m actually the object of your fantasies and also your best friend._ ” Jongdae shudders. The things he’s heard Baekhyun say about what he wants to do to Chen are pretty mentally-scarring.

“Why not?” Chanyeol shrugs. “You’re basically the object of his fantasies even if you’re not Chen anyway.”

Chanyeol is so #delu. Jongdae shakes his head, promising his friend that he’ll chat with Chanyeol when he gets home, before returning to Kyungsoo.

 

-

 

Jongdae’s with Yixing when he gets the call.

“You need to go higher on that note, Jongdae,” Yixing says through the speakers.

Jongdae nods, taking a deep breath when suddenly, his butt vibrates. He sighs, shooting Yixing a pleading look when he sees Baekhyun’s name on the caller I.D.

“Hey, what’s up? I’m in the middle of—” Jongdae cuts himself off, “study.”

“JONGDAE!” Baekhyun screams. Jongdae holds this phone a few centimetres further from his ear. “I WON THE COMPETITION.”

“Competition?”

“You know, the one to go on a date with Chen.” Baekhyun explains, Jongdae’s heart sinking at his words. “I’m going to die. Fuck. _A DATE. WITH CHEN._ ”

Yixing’s looking at him curiously through the window of the recording booth. Pointing at his phone, Jongdae mouths, _Who fucking let Baekhyun win the competition?_

Yixing mouths back, _What?_

Jongdae motions slitting his throat with his finger, and stomps out of the booth, putting a hyperventilating Baekhyun on hold. “Who did this?”

“Ask Joonmyun, not me,” Yixing says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll give you ten before we recoup. You better, uh, answer that.”

His phone begins to ring again, Baekhyun having hung up. Jongdae ignores the call, instead calling Joonmyun, angrily punching in his speed-dial.

“Sup?” Joonmyun says.

“You’re not cool,” Jongdae hisses, “and you’re definitely _not cool_ right now. Why did Baekhyun win the competition?”

“4 real?” Not cool. “I didn’t decide the winner. What are you gonna do?” Joonmyun says in his best high school counsellor voice.

“More like what are _you_ gonna do? You have to cancel it! Send him an apology letter or something. I’ll film a message!” Jongdae shouts hysterically into the phone.

“Shh, calm down.”

“I’m calm!”

“I’ll figure something out, okay. Get back to recording, Yixing just texted me.” Joonmyun hangs up, and Jongdae receives an incoming call from Baekhyun straight away. He groans, answering it reluctantly.

“Why didn’t you answer me?!” Baekhyun screeches into the phone.

“Dropped my phone in the toilet.”

Baekhyun huffs. “Wait, I’ve got a call coming in. Hold up.”

Jongdae walks back to the studio, giving Yixing a defeated look, until his phone buzzes again and when he answers, he hears Baekhyun saying in a small voice, “It’s cancelled. Chen’s sick,” before he hangs up.

He quells the pang of guilt in his chest, throwing himself into the recording again, but ultimately Yixing tells him he’s not getting it right and to give a rest for the day.

 

-

 

“Get back, fucker!” Jongdae yells, kicking Chanyeol’s shin. “That was my kill!”

Chanyeol merely laughs, swiftly shooting down another target Jongdae had his eye on. At the same time, the doorbell rings through the house and they hear Jongdeok’s voice calling up, “Baekhyun’s here!”

A couple minutes later, Baekhyun’s opening Jongdae’s bedroom door, flopping face-first onto his bed with a groan.

“You okay?” Chanyeol says, eyes never leaving the television screen.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun mumbles, the sound muffled. “Anyway, amidst this dark, bay of misery, I have found my shining lighthouse.” He sits up on his elbows, obviously fighting back tears. “I— I was sent a signed CD. And a video message from Chen. HE SAID MY NAME AND I QUOTE, _I love you Baekhyun!_ ” He flails on the bed again.

“Wow,” Chanyeol says, glancing at Jongdae knowingly.

“And that’s not the best part.” Baekhyun sniffles. “There were also two VIP tickets to his concert next week.”

“What?” Jongdae asks, incredulously.

“There was a message signed KJM. They’re legit, I showed them to my dad!” Baekhyun sits up again. “I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO SEE HIM LIVE! YOU GUYS AREN’T SCREAMING, WHY AREN’T YOU SCREAMING?”

“Oh, believe me,” Chanyeol says. “Jongdae’s screaming on the inside.”

Baekhyun lets out one-high pitched scream before flopping on the bed again and breaking into a fit of sobbing. Jongdae and Chanyeol decide to leave him be and resume their game, Jongdae pinching Chanyeol’s thigh when he tries to discuss this new revelation.

Jongdae’s gonna do it. He’s going to kill Kim Joonmyun, and no one can stop him. He is bloodthirsty. He shoots down three civilians, visualising them to have platinum blond hair and black credit cards.

Once they’re finished another round of the game, Jongdae takes Chanyeol downstairs to see him off, patting Baekhyun’s miserable butt on the way out.

He grabs a packet of Twizzlers from the kitchen, trudging back upstairs. Pushing his door open, he doesn’t see Baekhyun on the bed but instead on the other side of the room with a look of curiosity on his face, about to pull the lever that opens his Top Secret Popstar Chen Wardrobe and his heart almost stops, the Twizzlers falling out of his hand and hitting the floor as he calls out, “NO! STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE!”

Baekhyun turns around, arm falling to his side, and Jongdae sighs in relief. “Jongdae?” he rubs at his eyes.

Jongdae walks over to Baekhyun wheeling him in the direction of the bed. “Let’s watch something.”

He ends up pulling some of his Dad’s old music videos, back when he had a flourishing music career in the 80s. They make Baekhyun laugh, lifting his miserable mood. “I can’t believe that’s your dad,” he says, clutching his stomach. “It’s lucky records are so big. There’s no way you’d fit all that hair on a CD.”

“It’s a mullet. Business in the front, party in the back! Oh yeah!”

Baekhyun snorts, peering at the side of the laptop screen. “Oh my God. Is my Youtube channel in your recommended videos?”

“What? I’m your number one supporter. You’re great,” Jongdae says, sincerity thinly veiled with sarcasm. He clicks on one of the videos, an acoustic cover of _Life’s What You Make It,_ his personal favourite.

Baekhyun shoves him. “Do we have to?”

Jongdae hushes him, smiling as Chanyeol strums the beginning of the instrumental, and Baekhyun begins singing on the screen. Baekhyun leans his head on Jongdae’s shoulder as they watch the cover—“ _Why be sad, broken hearted? Give yourself a break_.” Baekhyun sings, “ _Life’s what you make it, so let’s make it rock!_ ”

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun whispers once the video finishes, hooking his chin on Jongdae’s shoulder, “do you wanna come with me to Chen’s concert?”

Jongdae lets out a choked sound. “It’s next week, right? Dad’s taking us down to Grandma's farm. I’m so sorry Baek, you could ask Chanyeol?”

The excited gleam in Baekhyun’s eyes dim slightly and he sticks out his bottom lip, and Jongdae can’t stop himself anymore—he leans down, pecking Baekhyun right on the mouth. He pulls back quickly to see Baekhyun’s eyes widen. Heart hammering in his chest, Jongdae’s about to apologise, maybe go run to the bathroom and tear up a little, when Baekhyun leans in and captures Jongdae’s lips in another kiss. It’s sweet, close-mouthed and everything they’ve been waiting for all these years.

They don’t talk about it afterwards—they don’t need words—Baekhyun resting his head against Jongdae’s chest as they fall asleep, their steady breathing the only sound in the room.

 

-

 

In the morning, Jongdae takes Baekhyun home, riding their bicycles side by side. Through breakfast they almost forget the kiss last night, laughing as if nothing happened, but silence falls over them when remember. If Jongdae has any regrets, they’re destroyed when Baekhyun kisses him again at his front doorstep.

“Toodles,” Baekhyun whispers against Jongdae’s lips, walking backwards into his house. Jongdae gapes, watching him go, with a small wave. They really should talk it out.

Jongdae cycles back home, clinging to his Dad where he’s eating cereal on the couch. “Dad,” he whines, “what do I do?”

“Hm?”

“I think I should tell Baekhyun the truth,” Jongdae sighs. “He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey now,” his dad says softly, patting Jongdae’s head. “That’s not true. It might take a while for him to forgive you, but trust me, you were loved long before you were Chen and you’ll be loved long after Chen’s on one of those _Where Are They Now?_ shows.”

“I think you’re confusing me with you, Dad,” Jongdae sniffs.

The sound Jongdeok’s evil cackling enters the room and he jumps onto the sofa, one of Jongdae’s wigs in his hands. “Is lil bro having problems? Aw,” Jongdeok teases, haphazardly shoving the wig on. “Hi! I’m Chen!” he laughs, pulling the wig off. “Now I’m Jongdae, a real boy!” Jongdae narrows his eyes. “Oops, a pop star! Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days, except for me because I'm PERFECT!”

Dad rolls his eyes. “Stop annoying your brother. Shoo.”

“I’m sorry that no one in this house has a sense of humour.” Jongdeok raises his eyebrows and Jongdae kicks his butt as he climbs over the top of the couch. Before he leaves, Jongdeok turns around to ruffle Jongdae’s hair, and Jongdae takes it as a really pathetic sign of comfort, but Jongdeok’s form of showing his love nonetheless.

“Anyway, I think I’m ready to tell the world my secret.” Jongdae exhales.

“Okay, kiddo. If that’s what you need to do. It had to happen sometime, hey?”

Jongdae nods, blinking back tears. He can do this. It’s time—he takes out his phone, and sends Joonmyun a message.

 

-

 

Jongdae bounces on his heels as the makeup artist touches up his face. He’s under the stage, can hear the crowd above, chanting his name. He’s buzzing for this, a mixture of nerves and adrenaline. This isn’t like any other concert. Today is going to change his life; whether it crashes and burns is something Jongdae can’t predict but he’s ready for it.

Or at least, he tries to tell himself that.

The beat of _Nobody’s Perfect_ begins to play in the speakers, pumping through the stadium and he’s suddenly shot up onto the stage, the sound of the music thrumming through his veins. The audience’s screams grow impossibly louder at the sight of him. “One two three four, let me hear you scream!” He doesn’t bother hiding the grin on his face as he sings.

“ _Next time you feel like, it’s just one of those days,_ ” he addresses the crowd, hand on his hip, “ _when you just can't seem to win. If things don't turn out the way you plan, FIGURE SOMETHING ELSE OUT! Don't stay down! Try again!_ ” He blows a kiss at the mosh pit, and a girl bursts into tears.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol are in the VIP Section, but he doesn’t get a chance to seek them out until six songs later. “Now, I’ve got a surprise for you guys. You probably know that the repackage of my mini album, True Friend, is being released tomorrow, but I’ve decided that I’m going to give you all a sneak preview of my new single, _If We Were A Movie._ It’s a song very dear to my heart, enjoy!”

His eyes can the crowd as he sings, “ _There you go again, talking cinematic. I know, how you always seem to go for the obvious instead of me, but get a ticket and you’ll see~_ ” He spots Baekhyun and Chanyeol in the crowd, holding up a banner he’d helped them prepare last night. He points to Baekhyun, flashing him a brilliant smile. “ _If we were a movie, you’d be the right guy and I’d be the best friend, that you’d fall in love with~_ ”

Baekhyun almost stumbles on his feet, falling against Chanyeol as Jongdae continues to sing directly to him before turning to another part of the crowd.

 

-

 

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Joonmyun urgently asks Jongdae underneath the stage, midway through his costume change.

“Yeah. If I don’t do it now...”

“You’ll never do it, yeah. Good luck out there kid, I’m proud of you,” Joonmyun says, patting Jongdae’s arm and then pulling a tissue out of his pocket and turning away, sniffling. Jongdae shakes his head, laughing.

Jongdae’s catapulted onto the stage again, but this time, the atmosphere is different. With a serious look on his face, he lifts his microphone to his lips.

“Seven years ago, I wrote this song about an 11 year old boy who wanted to be a rockstar.” Jongdae takes a deep breath and begins his practiced speech. “But he also wanted a normal life, so he pretended to be somebody else.” The crowd is now tittering in confusion.

“And that was great for a little while but,” He pauses, heart beating a million miles a second, “he's 18 now and life is even more complicated and,” he places a hand on the back of his head, closing his eyes, “he just doesn't want to pretend anymore. His name is Kim Jongdae.”

He pulls off his wig, his facade and he’s not Chen anymore, but Jongdae. He keeps his eyes closed shut, afraid to look at anyone. It’s exhilarating, a weight lifted off his shoulders, the pressure of a secret he’s kept for so many years now.

Jongdae, _Kim Jongdae_ , begins to sing the familiar lyrics to _Rockstar_ , but it’s all so unfamiliar and it feels so fucking amazing.

 

-

 

It takes about ten minutes for security to bring Baekhyun backstage, and about five seconds after that for him to shove Jongdae up a wall, fist poised at his cheek. Chanyeol pulls him back, Baekhyun huffing furiously. He shoves Chanyeol off but doesn’t approach Jongdae again, glaring at him from the opposite wall. Jongdae gulps.

“Can we talk?” he asks in an effort to placate Baekhyun.

“Sure.” Baekhyun spits out, following Jongdae down the corridor to his dressing room, Chanyeol trailing close behind.

He can feel Baekhyun’s breath brush the back of his neck as he fumbles with the door knob, hands shaking, until he finally gets the door open and what—

“Joonmyun?” Jongdae asks, watching in shock as Joonmyun climbs off the person he was straddling on the couch. The person sits up, plump lips red and slick with saliva. “Kyungsoo?!”

“Jongdae!” Joonmyun cries out. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Ugh, whatever. Just get back to what you were doing.” Jongdae shakes his head, closing the door. “I need to bleach my eyes.”

He finally finds them a quiet spot in the bathroom, and Baekhyun’s considerably calmed down now, but still gives Jongdae the iciest look when he opens his mouth to speak.

Chanyeol plonks down on a closed toilet seat, eyes darting between them like he’s watching a game of tennis. “Wish I had some popcorn right now.”

“Listen, Baek—”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Baekhyun says, crossing his arms, staring at a spot of grime on the tiles.

“Does that mean you’ll look at me later?”

Baekhyun snorts, lips quirking up in the tiniest hint of a smile. “Why, Jongdae?”

“I know I lied, but I did it with love,” Jongdae explains. “You heard me on stage. I started out with these two identities because I just wanted to have this normal life with my family, with _you_ , and then it just became this giant, tangled mess that I couldn’t get out of.”

Baekhyun glances up. “Why now?”

“I—” Jongdae stutters, desperately fighting for the right words. “When we kissed,” Chanyeol splutters, “I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. Even if you hate me, I know it was the right thing to do.”

“I don’t...” Baekhyun says quietly. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. In fact, I love you.”

“Me or Chen?”

“You fucker, you’re making me confused. You, of course,” Baekhyun says, a smile overcoming his face and then, all of a sudden, he’s bursting into a fit of laughter.

Baekhyun slaps the sink, silently laughing, and that’s when Jongdae bursts into tears, totally overwhelmed by everything. He tries to fight them, but he’s suddenly sobbing and Baekhyun’s walking over to pull him into a bone-crushing hug. Chanyeol leaps up, yelling “GROUP HUG!” and wraps his arms around the pair.

They stumble around the bathroom for a few minutes until Chanyeol’s back pocket buzzes and he pulls away to check his phone. “Oh my god. She asked me out. On a real date,” Chanyeol cheers, running out of the bathroom to make his call.

Baekhyun turns back to Jongdae. “You know, as the famous, famous Canadian professor Avril Lavigne-stein once said, why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? I see the way you’re acting, like somebody else, gets me frustrated. Life’s like this: You fall, and you crawl, and you break, and you take what you can get. You turn it into honesty, and promise me I’m never gonna find you fake it. No. No. No.” He grins, glancing down at a teary eyed Jongdae who breaks into a fresh round of sobs, burying his face into Baekhyun’s neck.

“Will you really forgive me?” Jongdae asks, voice croaky.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I had my suspicions anyway, but I thought I was deluded. Hey, can I ask you a question?” Jongdae nods. “That song—your new one.” He pauses, starry-eyed. “Was it about me?”

Jongdae wipes at his eyes, “It was. I guess this is as great as any time to make my confession too,” he starts, Baekhyun brushing away the remaining wetness on his cheek with his thumb. “Love you too. Idiot,” he tacks on for good measure because this is seriously the first time they’ve ever said those three words to each other. They don’t need words.

Baekhyun leans forward to kiss Jongdae, and Jongdae sees fireworks, feels sparks tingling in the pit of his stomach, until Baekhyun leans back and whispers, “It really was greater than the Second Coming of Christ,” and completely ruins the moment.


End file.
